What Donald Hall Understood About Death
In the pieces he wrote for <em>The Atlantic</em>, the late poet embraced the inevitability of aging and decline.
Former U.S. Poet Laureate Donald Hall, who died Saturday at the age of 89, was a frequent voice in The Atlantic over the past 60 years. He often contributed verse, short fiction, personal essays, and literary criticism—works that were collectively distinguished by their melancholic introspection, by their eloquent reflection on the way things deteriorate, get corrupted, and come to an end. In a particularly self-aware (and self-effacing) moment, Hall asked in “Distressed Haiku,” published in our April 2000 issue:
Will Hall ever write lines that do anything but whine and complain?
